


Plural Dragons

by Venstar



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 23:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: there be dragons here!!  Q let's loose a secret to Bond one evening.





	Plural Dragons

                                                

 

Q was drunk, very, very, very drunk.  Bond had never seen him like this before and it was hysterical.  Shields had been lowered, defense mechanisms had been withdrawn, they had been talking about Bond’s future with MI6, how retirement was coming up, Q had turned maudlin before his third pint kicked in.

Q was trying to build a trebuchet out of match sticks, gum and a rubber band.  Bond hadn’t figured out quite where everything had come from.

“How many pockets does that atrocious thing have?”  Bond asked, he plucked at the faux fur on the hood of Q's anorack.  Q slapped his hand away.

“Enough.  Gimme nut, a nut will you, I think this is ready.”  Q slurred out.  

Bond reached for a nut, in an attempt to be obliging, until Q knocked his creation over and the rubber band sproinged away.  Q drunkenly chased it across the bar, almost falling over.  Bond snagged him about the waist, having a hard time holding onto a determined inventor, a peanut and his own laughter.  

“Q, come back!”  Bond said, grunting as Q wiggled and a shoe caught his knee.  

“Here you go, ya wee bastard.”

“AHAHAHAHA!”  Q grinned as he held his prize up.  Of course, he hadn’t caught it on his own.  The bartender, who had literally seen everything and wasn’t fazed by a drunk patron hanging over the bar handed it to him.  

“Cheers, barkeep!”  Q replied, waving his prize around.  He began the laborious task of rebuilding his trebuchet.  

Bond enjoyed the silence and the fact that he wasn’t expected to say anything except drink and occasionally place a hand on Q to keep him and his enthusiasm from falling off his stool.  They both worked in companionable silence for awhile, until Q broke it.

“Did I ever tell you?”  Q asked and then stopped.

“Hmmm?”  Bond hummed as he sipped, his attention back on Q.

“About the time…”  Q’s voice trailed off again, as did his conversation.

“What time?”  Bond asked, he checked his Omega, God it was late, even for him.  He rubbed a hand over his face.

“The dragons walked into a bar.  Wait the dragons actually flew into the bar.”

Bond gave a puff of a sigh as Q stopped again.  “Technicalities don’t matter. Just tell the joke already.”

“Joke? What joke? I’m being completely serious.” Q said.  “Dragons fly.  I mean they can walk.  They do.  But they flew into a bar to dig Carlson out.  I haven’t let him forget that.

Bond might have believed Q, if his tongue wasn’t poking out the side of his mouth and he was again trying to place the rubber band just so.

“We have dragons in Q branch.  Didn’t you know that?”  Q asked, he held his hand out to bond and wiggled his fingers.  “Nut please.”

“Dragons in Q branch.”  Bond repeated.  He placed the nut in Q’s hand...aaaaaaaand it fell right through.  “Dammit Q.”

“Hey!  Bring back that equipment in one piece!”  Q said giggling.  “The dragons bring back all of their equipment, I don’t understand how you don’t.  I mean.  Do I need to invent...yes, yes...agent glue.  Human friendly sticky agent glue.  Just if I smear it on your hands you won’t lose your Walther half the time you do.”  

“Q.”  This time, Bond grabbed a handful of nuts and dumped them in Q’s palm.

“I mean, people and cats walk, my cats walk...strut mostly, but dragons fly.  Oh, they can walk if they choose to.” Q continued to blather on, as he struggled to see straight enough to put the nut in the saddle made from chewing gum and it’s wrapper.

“Q.”

“Normally they’re just a bunch of lazy bastards who take up too much space and well, they’re great at what they do.  Recycling and agent retrieval.”  Q said, he shoved some nuts in his mouth.

“Q.”

“Why is this so difficult?”  Q frowned at the nut in his hand as it weaved about.  He squinted at it.  “Bond.  James, Bond.”  Q said, smiling goofily up at Bond.  “Would you do me the honor and put your nut in my saddle?”

“Q, you’re a menace when you’re drunk, did you know that?”  Bond asked, he slapped a hand over his mouth, he couldn’t laugh at his superior, but he couldn’t help it.  “Put my nut in your saddle.  Jesus, your innuendos are awful.”

“Your in-in-your end is awful.” Q said, snorting some more, he picked up his empty beer mug and tried to drink out of it.  He finally noticed it was empty.  “My pint is not a pint anymore.  It’s 0.00 of a pint.  It is no more.  Barkeep!  This is not a pint!  Where’d my pint go.”

“Q, I think you’ve had enough.”  Bond said, he waved his hand at the bartender and made a cutting motion across his neck with his hand.  

“Your nuts are salty and I’m thirsty.”  Q pounded his fist on the bartop.  “Do you know how many times I’ve had to send a dragon after you?”  

“Dragons.  In Q branch.  Q, you’re drunk, we’re leaving.”  Bond waved his credit card at the bartender, who came over and closed out Bond’s and Q’s tab.

“Hey!  A gentleman pays for his own drinks!” Q said, he scrabbled around for his coat.  “And...and I haven’t launched your nuts yet!”  

“You can launch them later.  Let’s go, I’ll let you pay me back, although I doubt you’ll remember much.  Come on, give me your keys.”  Bond snagged Q and his coat and helped him get the nasty thing on, he wondered how much trouble he’d be in if he managed to throw Q’s coat away tonight.  “Whoop!”  Bond grunted out, as after managing to get his right arm in the coat, Q slung himself around Bond and wrapped that arm around him.  

“Pay back.  You owe me.  No wait, I owe you.  NO, you owe me equipment.  I never have anything to feed the dragons when you come back.  Sometimes you don’t come back and I have to send the dragons after you.”

Bond managed to haul himself and Q’s weaving form out of the bar and onto the nearly empty streets, dark and foggy.

“Retrieval team, Q.  You mean retrieval team.  Helicopters and such.  Yeah, sure they look like dragons.”  Bond said, he pulled them to the corner, looking for a cab.

“No, James.  James no.”  Q’s hands tightened on Bond, his fingers digging into his sides, Bond grunted.

“Ow.  Stop that.”

“After that last disappearance, it took forever to find you, but they did.  M has it in his mind to make you a rider.  We lost one on your last retrieval.  M thinks it would be a good fit.  Keep you alive...maybe.  Keep you useful, although he said that, not me.  I think you’re useful.  You provide me with nuts.  Salty nuts.”

“Q?”

“It would keep you at Six, you wouldn’t have to retire.  I know it’s coming up.”

“Q, you’re rambling.  You need to stop.”

“I don’t want you to go.”  Q said, he dug his fingers into Bond’s side again.

“Ow!  Jesus, it is like having a cat.”  Bond mumbled, but he tightened his grip on Q as well.  “MI6 doesn’t have dragons Q, you’re drunk.”  That apparently was the wrong thing to say to Q.

“WE DO TOO!  WHO DO YOU THINK BRINGS YOU BACK?  EVERYONE’S ASSIGNED A DRAGON.”  Q yelled in Bond’s armpit, from where he had anchored himself.  “EVERYONE!”

“Q!”  Bond yelled harshly back, “Stop that.”  He covered Q’s mouth with his hand and was promptly bitten for his efforts.  “Why you little shit.  Stop that!”  He jerked to the side, Q was kicking at his shins and ankles.  “What is the matter with you.”

“I’m drunk, Bond, but I’m not crazy.”  Q stood up and tilted a bit, but he made it to the edge of the curb...barely.  He threw a hand out as the dim light of a vehicle hove into view.  The driver slowed and came to a stop.  “Get in, and I’ll show you.  I told you M considered you, was considering you.  I’m considering you, so get in.  Come on, I don’t bite.”

Bond raised an eyebrow at that.  “Oh really?”  He held his hand up to show Q the bite mark on his palm.

“Whatever, you’ve had worse and you know it.  If you ask nicely, I’ll do it again, come on, before I tell M no and you don’t want to hear me say no.  No.  Get in.”  Q waved his arm into the cab and then fell in.  

Bond sighed, but followed, pushing and pulling, until Q was half in and out of the back seat.  Q yelled out the direction over Bond and then told the cab driver to ignore his mute friend.  

“This time, I’m paying.”  Q said, he took care of the cab and then pulled Bond to a blank brick wall.

“Q, it’s late, not the sewers, please.”  Bond murmured.  “I believe you, let’s just go home.  I’m tired, you’re tired.”

“No.”  Q said stubbornly.  He swiped a card that Bond had never seen before, along a hidden crack in the brick and then there was a grinding noise and a puff of air, as the wall pushed forward, allowing the width of a person to fit through.

“What?”  Bond asked, staring at the section that had moved forward.  Apparently he had been lacking in his spy ability, he’d never seen this wall open, never seen Q use it.  “What?”

“The great Bond.  James, Bond, stumped by a door.”  Q laughed.  “Come on, come on.”  Q pulled on Bond’s arm this time, it was him leading.  

They stumbled and tumbled through the door and down the stairs, a spiral stair, going deeper and deeper.  Bond could feel the dampness and the chill in the air as they got lower and lower.

“It’s a myth really, dragons not liking the cold.  Couldn’t be further from the truth.  They run so hot, they like the coolness.  It allows them to get the temperature just right.  We’ve only got the one squadron.  It’s small, but M likes to keep it that way.  The M’s like to keep it that way.”

“Dragons?”  Bond asked, Q stumbled into him and he was distracted by keeping the Quartermaster from breaking his neck in a place that Bond was sure he wasn’t supposed to be.  “Stop trying to kill yourself.”

Q snorted.  “Afraid of a little office gossip.  They were found together in a mysterious stairwell.  Bond and Q.  What were they doing!”  Q let out a little gasp.  “Shameful.”

“Har, har, har, very funny.”  Bond grumbled, he grabbed Q’s bicep though and hung on for good measure.  “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

The reached a cast iron door at the base of the stairwell and Q slipped another card down the wall, the door cracked open and Q put a hand on it.  Before opening it though, he turned back to Bond.  

“Are you ready?”  Q asked.  He frowned, “I suppose I should have asked if you were ready.  Are you ready.’

“Just, come on Q, hurry up, so we can get out of the cold and someplace warm.”

“Like your lap?” Q asked, a light of happy interest flaring in his wide eyed gaze.

Bond squinted at Q, there was no artifice, only mischievous teasing.  “Yeah, sure.”

“Fine!  Dragons first, then lap.”  Q agreed.  He pulled the door open and marched forward.  

A blast of heat hit Bond as he stepped forward through the door, which snapped shut behind him.  It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, he could barely see Q, picking his way a few feet ahead.  

“Q!”  Bond hissed out.  He ran forward to catch Q’s arm again and tripped...over something that was knee high.  He landed hard on his shoulder and lay there for a moment.  “Ow.”

“Walk much?”  Q asked from above him.

Bond squinted up at Q.  “When I get out of here, I’m going to put you over my lap.”

“Ooooh, really!?”  Q sounded intrigued by that option.

“And spank you.”  Bond lashed out a hand and caught Q on the side of his flank.

“Well, that’s not what I had in mind, but it’s a start.”  Q laughed.

Bond shook his head and began the laborious process of rolling over, but stopped as something darker than the shadows loomed over Q.  He froze.  “Q.  Don’t move.”

Q froze.  “What?  What?”

Two large, silvery orbs and the orange glow of flames suddenly appeared behind Q.  Bond yelled out and grabbed Q’s hand, yanking him down and over whatever it was that had tripped him, rolling to cover Q.  He hoped that the knee high wall would provide enough of cover, until he could get them out of there.  Q was shaking beneath him and something was nudging his shoulder.

“Ah!”  Bond yelled, as something wet flicked out and hit his head.  Q shook even harder, and then he was hooting.  “For Christ’s sake, Q, shut up!”

“Barnabas.  You ran from Barnabas!”  Somehow, this meant something to Q and he just kept laughing.  “You ran from Barnabas!”

“I don’t even know who Barnabas is, but I think he’s licking me.”  Bond mumbled into Q’s dark curls.  They smelled of smoke, rain and beer.  

“Barnabas is your dragon.  A great behemoth of a beast, that’s not actually given up on you, not like some of the other dragons.  Sometimes, you get yourself into so much trouble, you’ve scared the junior dragons.”  Q was still shaking with laughter.  “Let me up, I’ll introduce you.”

Q got an elbow and then a foot into Bond and managed to climb out of him, he stood weaving gently and stretched a hand out.  ‘Barnabas’ lowered his head and made a sound like a giant cow that echoed off the walls.  It turned into a rumble and the orange glow of fire came from between rows of sharp teeth.  

“Come on Bond, Barnabas won’t eat you.  We lost his rider most recently, on that last trip.  I’m sorry.  That was an awful mission.  The other riders and dragons won’t have you, but Barn, he’s our eldest, I think he thinks it’s his job to see the agents back safely.  Even your dumb arse.”

“Hey.”  Bond said.

As if understanding, Barnabas let out something that sounded a lot like a laugh.  Bond felt the thing that he tripped on and hid behind move slowly, pushing against him, he stepped over it, closer to Barnabas, who dipped his nose down to be of a height with him.  Bond squinted, there wasn’t much light and Barnabas was dark in color.

“Oh, sorry, where are my manners.”  Q said.  He clapped his hands and pop, pop, pop, strings of lights, almost yellow in color lit up along the brick pillars, highlighting shadowy crevices and piles of coiled bodies.  He caught the widening of Bond’s eyes.  “Surprise?’

Bond had opened his mouth to reply, but was unsure what to say, until he was nudged by a large, cold object.  He dropped a hand to steady himself, his eyes widened further as something that was only available in dreams and literature pushed itself up into his hand.  

“A dragon?”  He whispered.  “Dragons.  Plural.  Plural dragons.”  

“Yes.  England has so few.  Isn’t he a beauty?  I can’t see why he likes you.”  Q said, watching as Barnabus moved to appreciate Bond.  Nosing up his legs…

“Hey!”  Bond yelped, pushing Barnabas's head away from a particularly sensitive spot.  “Not on the first date.”

“See.”  Q said.  “I wasn’t lying about dragons.  I also wasn’t lying about your retirement.  You don’t have to go.  We do need a rider.”  Q’s voice turned wistful as he scrubbed his hand against one of Barnabas’s scales.  The dragon seemed to notice his mood and pushed his head into him.  “Yes, I know.  Sweet thing, you.”

“Ride a dragon?”  Bond said, the lights caught on Barnabas’s scales, they were a midnight blue, almost black, but not quite, there were grey, white and red speckles throughout, he wasn’t uniform in color, he even had a few scales missing, the thick skin scabbed over.  “I don’t think I’ve gotten over the fact that there’s a dragon.  That’s a dragon.  Dragons.”

“Sometimes, we can’t send helicopters or whole retrieval teams in, but we can send a dragon.  They’re not easily picked up on radar and they can swim.  They’re like the best all-terrain, water and aerial vehicles money can buy.”

“Can you buy a dragon?”  Bond asked, still petting Barnabas.

“You can, it’s not recommended.  Some of the wilds, they’re hard to manage, they may eat you rather than submit to any sort of training.  Others, well, you can’t always be sure that the egg is real or if it will hatch.  Ours, are heritage dragons, except for Barn.  Aside from being our eldest, he’s also a wild.  A lucky hatch pick by one of my predecessors.”  Q pushed his glasses up his nose, Bond could see that he was gearing up for a good lecture.  

“And you want me to ride...him?”  Bond asked, still a bit unsure of what was being offered.

“Well, I’m not sure you’re ready.  I’m not sure if Mallory thinks you’re ready, it takes a special sort to ride them, to get them to listen, to do as you ask.  I mean, you can hardly do what we ask of you.”

Bond rolled his eyes over to Q.  “Show me.”

“Show you?”  Q asked, he pushed his glasses again.  “We don’t have training videos.  The security would be a nightmare, could you imagine someone leaking footage?”  Q shuddered.

“No, Q.  Can you ride one?  Show me.”  Bond said, slowly, forgetting Q might still be inebriated.  “Ah, maybe now isn’t a good time.”

“It’s always a good time to ride a dragon!”  Q said.  “Come on Barn, let’s get your gear!”  

Barnabas made an excited noise, his mouth glowed orange again.  Q fumbled around one of the dark caves, Bond moved to look over his shoulder, Barn followed and they both observed Q pulling out canvas and leather.  Bond picked up one of the straps, thick, heavy and beautifully made.  He whistled.

“Thanks.”  Q grunted as he set the bundle down.  “Make them myself.”

“You do leatherwork as well?”  Bond asked, surprised.

“I do a lot of things Bond.”  Q winked at him.  The stuffy, cardigan wearing peacock of Q-branch actually winked at him.  “Come on, it’s a double saddle.  As the yanks would say, it’s time to saddle up!  I’ll show you how, and then we’ll take a turn about the city, see how you and Barn get on.”

Adjustments were made, leather was tightened, watching Q manipulate the saddle and trappings that came with ‘saddling up’ was a pleasure.  Just as Q had put in effort while drunk and building a trebuchet, he put the same effort and concentration into checking and rechecking Barns comfort and tightness.  He looked up as he finished with the last strap, patting Barn and caught Bond’s appreciative look.

“What?”  Q asked.

“Competence, is very sexy.”  

Q let out a huff of laughter.  “You old flatterer.”

“You old tinkerer.”  Bond replied swiftly and was charmed to see Q blush at the odd moniker.

“Why thank you.  Okay.”  Q clapped his hands.  “Barn, up!”  

Barnabus stretched before crouching on the ground, his wings hitched up, allowing the riders to enter the saddle.  After Q had double checked that they were properly harnessed in, Bond was handed the reins to Barn.

“Um.”  Bond was hesitant, never having flown a dragon and thinking back to all the cars he had wrecked in his long career.  “Are you sure-”

“Let’s go!  Barn, HA!  HA!!!”  Q shouted.  He gave a nudge of his heels, pushed Bond forward, in order to give some slack on the reins and Barnabas climbed the brickwork out of the tunnels.  Bond may or may not have bitten back a bit of a scream, which turned into a wicked grin as Barn launched himself into the air and powered through the takeoff.  

As nights go, Bond could say that this wasn’t how he expected it to have gone.  A drunk Quartermaster, a dragon and a double oh, making loop the loops around the London sky.  

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover art For Plural Dragons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609022) by [lapsang_and_earlgrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapsang_and_earlgrey/pseuds/lapsang_and_earlgrey)




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